


So I May Never Doubt Your Sunrise

by metawasteoftime



Series: Fullmetal Ragnarok [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Atheist Character, Canon Blending, Character Death, F/M, Golems, Minor Character Death, Nuclear Warfare, Nuclear Weapons, Post-Apocalyptic, Theocracy, elements and characters from the games, part of an extremely long complicated personal AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-22 17:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metawasteoftime/pseuds/metawasteoftime
Summary: Father and Dante have terrorized the world with their Homunculi under the guise of tyrannical gods for millennia.  The Resistance's Colonel Mustang sends the Elric brothers to Liore to investigate some strange occurrences.  Like why the town was spared after the people turned from the merciless Eternals to worship the old god Leto.





	So I May Never Doubt Your Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I will update the tags whenever I get a new chapter up. Warnings won't change. Violence and character death is all the warning that's needed here.

_Year 4914 A.A. (After Armageddon)  
_

_April 9_

_Hiessgart Bunker_

Edward Elric yawns, blinking blearily at the door to the colonel’s office. His brother Al gives a longsuffering sigh from behind him in his metallic child-like voice and puts a large gloved hand on the doorknob. “Ed, I told you to get some sleep last night.”

“What are you talking about Al? I slept just fine,” Ed protests, stifling a second yawn with a brown hand. He scowls at the knob in Al’s hand with a sense of aggravated dread. “It’s just the thought of having to listen to that bastard.”

Al opens the door. The office is deeper than it is wide. It’s well lit by the light panels in the ceiling. Two large bookshelves line the left wall, full of thick books. An old stone desk sits at the far end of the room. Stacks of paper and a tape recorder cover it. A dark-haired man with traces of Xingese descent in his eyes sits behind the first desk, looking about as enthused as Ed. Typical.

“Uh, good morning, Colonel,” Al greets him politely. “You called us…?”

Ed grumbles to himself, _the colonel better have a damn good reason to call us all the way here._

Not that it was a particularly long walk. Like the other four bunkers from the Armageddon era, the Hiessgart Bunker is massive, functioning as an underground city sprawling two square miles wide and three stories deep, but their room and the secondary cafeteria is only two doors away from the colonel’s office. Ed understands this arrangement isn’t out of favoritism. The leaders of the resistance known as Ragnarok gave Colonel Mustang orders to keep a close eye and short leash on the infamous Prophet’s two sons.

"Yes," Colonel Roy Mustang answers briskly, clearly impatient to get this business over with, “I need you to visit a small northern desert town called Liore.”

Oh. That’s unexpected. Ed and Al trade a quick glance, eyes meeting soul lights, before turning back to Mustang. Ed frowns, suspicious of this unprecedented turn of events. “You’re telling us to leave?” He lets the question why hang unspoken in the air

“Perhaps you better listen to this.” Mustang presses the tape recorder’s play button. “It’s a recording from Liore taped almost two years ago.”

The cheerful enraptured voices of a choir sing from the tape, “O Master of the Sun above, bless me with your shining love and guard my heart from lies so I may never doubt your sunrise.”

The song -- _Hymn?_ Ed wonders -- ends. A brief moment of footsteps and shuffling followed, then a man starts speaking as if at a pulpit. “My children, walk in the divine light of the sun-god Leto who has freed us from the shackles of the wrongfully worshipped devils of Amestris this day–” Ed jerks and hears Al gasp beside him. “–and He will preserve you forever. Do not fear for, through the righteous power Leto has given me, I have cast out the wicked false goddess Solaris and driven her into the wildern–”

Mustang turns off the tape. Ed snaps his gaping mouth shut. For a moment, no one speaks.   _It can't be._  A thousand different thoughts and questions race through Ed’s head. He finds himself voicing the foremost one. “A town on the surface managed to free itself and was left _standing_?”

The colonel nods and this is all Ed needs to unleash a flurry of inquiries. “For two years? Why? What game is the pantheon playing at?”

Al suggests gingerly, “Maybe there isn’t a game. Maybe this Leto really is a god.”

Their mother’s tombstone in Resembool flashes across Ed’s mind, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “Even if he is, he’d be no better than them.”

Despite everything, Al has never stopped hoping and believing that there is someone out there looking out for humankind. “We don’t know that….”

Ed bristles at Al’s implication. “We don’t? What lousy, self-serving god abandons humanity to those bastards for _thousands_ of years?”

“But–”

Mustang clears his throat, stopping their debate in its tracks. “We don’t know if this Leto and his prophet are real or not, but it seems we have a powerful potential ally in Liore. I’m sending you on a diplomatic mission on behalf of Ragnarok. You fight on the side of humans even though you are the sons of the Prophet, so we’re presuming your allegiance will inspire others to join our cause.” Ed opens his mouth to protest that they are human, but the colonel continues, “I want you to investigate this Leto and his followers, and convince the town to ally with us. We have people located in Liore right now. They can vouch for you, if you run into any problems.”

Mustang wouldn’t send people on diplomatic missions unless he has an ulterior motive. That will draw too much attention to their activities. “And? What else?”

The ex-priest of the Amestrian pantheon responds to Ed’s quick read of the situation with a small condescending smile that sends a wave of irritation through Ed.  _Bastard._

“A team left to investigate Liore with Professor Eiselstein and his daughter two months ago. We’ve heard little from them since, but yesterday the communications team in the castle received a call.” A frown settles on Mustang’s face. “The team is missing. Eiselstein suspects foul play, but he’s a scientist, not a soldier and they're still in hiding from Camilla. His hands are tied, so I want you to back him up and investigate the disappearances.”

This makes much more sense. Roy sits down and leans forward, hands under chin. “But I have a third task for you. The majority of those living in Liore are Lebisic. The Lebisic people have a complicated close relationship with the Ishvalan people. In the past, they were enemies more often than not, but some small Lebisic towns allied with Ishval during the war. They were wiped out, but Liore was openly neutral to Ishval at this time. We were given evidence that suggests that this neutrality was a ruse agreed between Ishval and Liore. If so, it is possibly that some Ishvalans have been living hidden from the pantheon and their zealots there all this time. I want you to look for them.”

Ed frowns, but before he can speak, Al asks, “What, why? What do you want with them?”

Mustang exhales slowly. “What are you worried about? We’re Ragnarok. We have no reason to betray their trust.” He continues, “You are to leave first thing in the morning.

"Don't mention that last request to anyone.”

 →→→•←←←

_Year 4914 A.A._

_April 13_

_Liore_

The angels of Leto encompass the walls of his people’s city.  They stand ever vigilant against the pale cyclopean devils that roam the wilderness, turning heads dark and translucent this way and that.

The load roar of a speeding vehicle cuts through the din of strangled voices gasping for the Earth Mother.  The vehicle is armored and covered in spikes and adorned with skulls.  The angels’ glowing eyes watch it mow through pale fiends, covering it with viscera.

The angels hesitate as it races for the still closed gate.  Something feels off about the auras coming from the automobile dashing toward them, but they were given orders to provide shelter to any human that passes through.  They reluctantly open the gate, sounding an alarm for the Liorites to stay off the streets, and let the speeding vehicle pass.

It screeches to a halt next to the town square wine fountain and goes silent.

→→→•←←←

In the small desert town of Liore, there is an old temple. A pair of headless and profaned male and female statues _(towering, clothed in flowing robes of polished stone, hands clasped together as though in prayer)_ stand before the massive ornate doors into the sanctum.  The only sign the building held another purpose in the not too distant past.  Their once venerated heads lie strewn about at their feet, crushed to rubble.

Rosé Thomas brushes back a lock of hair bleached and dyed as she walks out.  The young woman of seventeen picks up a pebble and pockets it to cast it over the wall later, an unspoken new custom of the free people of Liore.  Looking up at the two statues, a reminder of the harsh reality of the world beyond their town, she wishes she can stay inside a little longer.

“Leto preserve us,” she murmurs under her breath, touching three fingers to her heart to ward off the evil exuding from the headless duo.  She walks down the steps into the street in brisk strides, reminding herself that she has things to do this day and she can’t serve Leto by keeping herself locked up in the sanctuary.  Heat scorches the road, forming puddles and rivulets in the distance.  Rosé ignores the mirages, accustomed to them since childhood, and they dissolve one by one into nothingness as she passes.

She is a block away from the temple when an ominous wail wavers in the air, sending chills up her spine.  The gate is open.  Her chest tightens and she freezes to the spot, breath quickening.  Despite the protection of angels over the town, she envisions devils pouring through, gaping maws shredding flesh like wet paper.  She doesn’t need to imagine how the screams would sound.

“Rosé!” She snaps out of the grisly partial memory at the call of Cain’s father, Bowman Wright. “In here, quick!”

She ducks into the house and he closes the door, barricading it with the dining table.  He turns off the light and they crouch down, listening breathlessly for the all-clear or sounds of violence.  Rosé looks around and realizes they are the only ones present in the Wright house.

“Where’s Cain?” Rosé whispers.

The graying man shrugs helplessly. “In the inn with Tuck, I hope.”

They sit in silence, dreading the worst.  Another siren wails, signaling the threat over.  Bowman opens the door tentatively and they step out.  Others leave their houses and stand in the streets with them.

“What happened?” Someone asks.  Another shakes her head.

“Is it an invasion?” A boy of twelve inquires, shaking like a leaf with fear and excitement.  His mother hushes him and reassures him the angels wouldn’t give the all-clear if there’s any danger.  She grips his shoulders tightly.

“There are strangers in the town square!” Someone shouts down the street.

“Strangers?”

Half the crowd takes a nervous step back toward their home.  The half with more faith in Leto heads for the fountain, murmuring to themselves about what it could mean.  A few clutch whatever can be used as a weapon if necessary.  Rosé and Bowman follow them.

The fearsome armored vehicle sits askew in the middle of the square, inches from the fountain. Bits of viscera and a few devil jaws cling to the spikes jutting out from its sides and front.  Rosé sucks in her breath.  She pulls her gaze away from the armored vehicle to search the gathering crowd for Father Cornello and Cain.  She spots the mysterious and compassionate prophet of Leto watching the commotion from the ornate doors of the basilica with darling Cain and Brother Cray at his side.  The prophet frowns.

The vehicle door snaps off with a series of bangs.  A boy in a red coat stumbles out.  A gas mask is clamped over his head, leaving only a sleek golden braid visible. He lands flat on his stomach on the ground. “Land!” He wheezes out.

A large man in armor climbs out of the vehicle after him. “Geez, brother.” He speaks in the light soprano of a young boy, a sharp contrast to his intimidating appearance. “That was reckless.”

The short teenager stands and dusts himself off with white gloves. “I got us here in one piece, didn’t I? And Colonel Windbag wanted us to take an escort.” His mask muffles a derisive snort.

“We could’ve gotten someone killed, Ed!” The soprano armor clenches a fist.  The smaller boy, Ed, makes a noise as though speaking, but it fades into a penitent hum. He rubs the back of his head. The armored boy continues, “This is exactly  why the colonel said only groups of five or more can traverse the wilderness.”

The crowd listens, growing uneasy.  There is something familiar about these two, and it isn’t pleasant.

“Well, we’re here now, so there’s no use crying over spilled stew,” Ed says.

The armored brother mutters under his breath, “That’s not how the saying goes.”

“I’m not crying over spilled milk, Al.”

Everything falls into place in Rosé’s mind.   _No, they can’t be.  They just can’t…_ He and his brother continue speaking, but she can’t hear them over the blood roaring in her ears, heartbeat thudding frantically.  Others in the crowd cry out, recoiling from the brothers, wide eyes mingled with fear and anger.  A boy with golden hair and an armored giant with the voice of a child….  There is no mistaking it.  They are the Elric brothers, the infamous half-human spawn of the so-called God Eternal’s prophet.  The Pantheon can’t possibly be trying to claim Liore back after ignoring them for two full years.  And Father Cornello drove out Luxuria and Gula himself with the true God Stone granted him by Leto in the wilderness.  Even their foul winged leviathan has given the Letoists a wide berth since that glorious day.

More horribly, the masked demon bristles with rage as he notices the reactions of the townspeople and he moves as though to attack. Al pulls him back by the shoulder, muttering something in his ear, but Ed struggles against him.  Rosé clutches a hand to her chest, sucking in air in sharp gasps.  A warm fatherly hand grips her shoulder. “Rosé, my dear child, do not fear for God is with us.”

His kind and peaceful voice restores her sense of faith and renews her hope.  Her muscles relax and her breathing slows.  “Father Cornello.” She says nothing more, a greeting and a thanks.  Cain places a gentle reassuring hand on her shoulder.  They watch the powerful bald man approach the two strangers with anticipation.  Rosé puts a hand on her mandatory pistol for an extra sense of security.  She notes the smaller of the two has calmed somewhat, but his chest is heaving.

Cornello stretches his hands out to them.  A fierce thrill of vindictive joy rushes through Rosé, a feeling that might’ve been foreign to her in another life. Cain chuckles softly beside her. There will be no mercy for the servants of the monsters who have already slaughtered so many of Leto’s children.

Hope in Leto’s judgment gives way to confusion and alarm as the God Stone fails to flare with His holy power, and Cornello shakes their hands vigorously.  “Blessed be this day in the light of the loving god Leto! I’ve been expecting you, Elric brothers.”

His lips curl into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not adding any more chapters in what seems to be years. I'm really insecure about this AU and have been struggling with discouragement regarding it. On top of this, I haven't actually watched or read FMA for ages now, so my knowledge may have gone all rusty.


End file.
